Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville #4) - Chanda Hahn Page 0,95

a dance, his voice muffled.

Frozen in my seat, my eyes craned to look toward the king.

He smirked and seemed to enjoy the power he had over me.

“You may dance, but you will not leave this room.”

I nodded again and stood up. My muscles ached. I had only been seated for a few minutes, but I had been tense, fighting the compulsion the whole time. I took a step down the stairs and stumbled down.

Idiot. The king’s stray thought was not missed.

A warm hand grabbed mine and pulled me into the crowd of swirling bodies. My face pressed against his fine suit, his hand on the small of my back, he guided me farther away from the dais until we were behind a column—out of the sight of the crowd.

“I felt I owed you a second dance,” a familiar voice murmured into my ear.

Aspen’s grip around my waist tightened, and I looked up at his cold eyes. I struggled, and he released me. Instead of his robe, he wore a dark suit, the collar tight against his throat, his hair impeccably styled. The grace with which he moved showed his nobility. “Relax. I’m not here to harm you. We’re here to watch the chaos.”

“We?”

He gave me a wicked smile, bowed, and slipped back into the crowd.

We. He had said we. Panicked, I scanned the throng of people for the noble I had seen speaking with the king. Why hadn’t I caught it earlier? There was only one person I knew with hair the color of a deep sea, and he had died months ago.

“Vasili,” I breathed out, searching.

My heart thrummed against my rib cage as the trumpets bleated for the second time, announcing our awaited guest. The palace attendees stood at attention, the double doors opened, and the crowd parted down the middle as a woman in a white hooded cloak walked through.

“Announcing Tatiana, Queen of the lesser fae court,” the crier called.

Tatiana stepped into the room and removed her hood. Her pale hair billowed down her back like a cloud, and her long-sleeved dress draped her in the color of the night sky.

I couldn’t help but see the resemblance between us.

Come to me, the king commanded.

Pulled by compulsion, I moved across the floor, keeping to the sides as I made a beeline for the king.

“Aura, wait.” Liam rushed into the room from the hall. His hand went to the sword at his side as he glared at the fae queen, but he dared not draw it.

As Tatiana walked down the center of the room, I was parallel with her moving toward the king, but I was keeping to the shadows.

“Welcome, Tatiana Morningstar, to my court. It’s been years since you last graced us with your presence.” The king’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I think you know why that is, Your Majesty,” she said coolly, her eyes a steely blue. She stopped before the dais, her chin raised in defiance—but the auras coming from her were not the ones I had encountered earlier. There was no anger, rage, or hatred. Only amusement.

Something was off.

The king moved down the steps and offered her a bow. “The circumstances by which you were imprisoned were not by my command, but by those of another,” King Pharell answered cryptically.

“Nevertheless, you destroyed everything I hold dear when you destroyed the fae court,” she answered as if reciting a line.

“And you stole my child,” the king roared.

The court gasped, and the room fell silent as their dark secrets finally came to light. Mother was right. He had finally remembered.

Tatiana’s lips pursed in amusement. “That I did not. Though, I tried.”

The king’s face paled, and he became flustered. “Then who did?”

Tatiana laughed; a high-pitched tinkle filled the air. “For that answer, I would look closer to home.”

Enthralled to have the upper hand, Tatiana twirled and looked at the tables laid with golden plates and gold-rimmed glass goblets. “Come, now. It’s been years since I’ve been here for one of your illustrious banquets. What was the last occasion? The christening of your child. The one I supposedly stole.”

“It seems that we have both erred and are in the wrong. Please accept my humble apologies.” The king’s response was dry and insincere. “Sit, and we will discuss business after dinner.” He snapped his fingers to announce it was time. The servants appeared from behind curtains and moved to stand behind each chair. The king and queen moved to the head table, and they kept me in the shadows, near enough